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My bones aren't what they used to be;
my eyes ache, as if I've been reading
an ancient text by candlelight.
My back and knees creak.
I'm happy if the car starts
and I can walk the dogs along the ocean
which looks a little less robust.
It replenishes itself with stretching
and long cleansing breaths.
The sun is another story.
It's beginning to show its age.
Perhaps we've enjoyed enough springs
and everything is getting
a little redundant.
Philip Schultz
from Living in the Past
Posted over on Applehouse Poetry
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